


Business Partners

by thunderfitz



Category: Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet (TV)
Genre: Angst, Because I can, Brad is a chaotic gay, David is a supportive bi, Fluff, M/M, Trans Character, bi David Brittlesbee, but it makes sense to me soo, but it's very heavily implied to have happened at the end, gay Brad Bakshi, rated mature because Brad loves using the f bomb, sex doesn't happen, this is mostly just me projecting myself onto Brad, title probably doesn't make sense to the general public, trans Brad Bakshi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderfitz/pseuds/thunderfitz
Summary: Brad and David have been seeing each other outside of work for a few months, and all this time Brad's been unintentionally keeping a pretty major part of himself a secret. When he comes to that realization, it kinda freaks him out.orBrad is a chaotic and kind of emotionally-stunted asshole but he's TRYING and David supports his boyfriend wholeheartedly.
Relationships: Brad Bakshi/David Brittlesbee
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Business Partners

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic because there is a severe lack of BradDavid aka Bravid aka Dad fics in existence, and there aren't any trans!Brad fics so... this is just made to satiate me until further notice. please comment what you think when you're finished reading, and feel free to let me know if the characters feel too ooc. I tried my best, but not everyone's perfect, so critcism is appreciated. thanks!

Where bleach-white throw pillows were once neatly arranged on the sofa, the space was now occupied by two bodies; Brad, the owner of said black, leather sofa, and David. Yup. Brad and David, together, making out like a couple of high schoolers in the middle of Brad’s living room. Months ago, maybe even weeks ago, Brad wouldn’t have called it a living room. It had been so void of any sort of personality, as black and white and positively boring as the sofa they were settled on. Brad hadn’t seen an issue with it, he liked to pride himself on his interior design skills, thank you very much. Then David had pushed himself into Brad’s life outside of work, had started spending more and more time with Brad. At first, Brad assumed David was just bored- and maybe he was- but as time went on, it became almost painfully clear that David wanted to spend time with Brad because… well, he was David, and Brad was Brad, and apparently that was enough for the dork with a moustache to wedge himself into Brad’s personal life. What had first started as the two of them grabbing a bite to eat after work every few days gradually turned into stolen kisses in the parking garage, late nights on either of their couches watching god-awful television, and David bringing an extra muffin to work every morning- the last one especially because, as David had put it, _for a guy who’s so obsessed with material things, your eating habits are abysmal._

  


Now? Well, now, Brad’s once shallow, colourless home had been littered with pops of colour- a few varying articles of clothing that David had accidentally left behind, David’s toothbrush (an electric toothbrush that was incredibly obnoxiously loud and way too bright a shade of purple, if you asked Brad), a little Scrooge McDuck plushie that David insisted was _on sale for only like two bucks, so I couldn’t not get it for you_ , which now sat atop Brad’s dresser in the bedroom. And if Brad sometimes slept with that thing at night when David didn’t fall asleep there? Well, then that was Brad’s business. Luckily for Brad, David had been falling asleep on his sofa a hell of a lot more often lately, and it had looked like that would happen again, until David apparently couldn’t resist the urge to kiss Brad anymore- not that Brad was complaining, he quite enjoyed the kissing, even if he’d never admit how warm and flustered it made him feel. He’d never admit it, just like he’d never admit the way David’s breath against his neck was making him lose his mind, or how when David moved them from sitting to lying, hovering over him, Brad could feel his breath hitch in his throat. David knew. Of course he knew. Brad often made a lot of teasing remarks about David’s social awareness, but the truth was, David was even better at reading people than Brad was. Which is most likely why, when Brad pushed up against David’s chest suddenly to halt his actions, David immediately pulled back with a look of concern. Brad felt the loss of warmth immediately, as David pulled his hands out from underneath Brad’s shirt and sat back on the sofa, still watching him with a look that was more gentle and caring than Brad had ever been on the receiving end of before.

  


“Sorry- sorry. I didn’t think- sorry.” David stammered out a bit breathlessly, shaking his head as he spoke, as if he was grasping to find the right words. He may have mumbled out a few more apologies- Brad wasn’t too sure. He felt himself zone out, regress to some ‘safe place’ in his mind and just… exist for a moment. Things were getting very heated, very quickly, and while Brad would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucking dreamed of this moment, it was also absolutely terrifying. Which, frankly, just made Brad even more worried, because _what the hell?_ He was never this freaked out about shit, especially not in front of David. Never in front of David. It took several minutes- probably too many minutes- of silent crisis mode for Brad to finally come to a conclusion; he was self-conscious. Brad was pretty sure he’d never felt self-conscious in his life, unless you counted all those years before testosterone and top surgery, and now, suddenly, it was like all of those absent, hurtful feelings were thrusted towards him by some evil demon-thing (and that’s why he isn’t in charge of naming any of the characters at work, he’d leave that to the professionals). All this time, Brad hadn’t said a single word about his gender identity to anyone he hadn’t known before transitioning, not a single soul, and he’d always thought it was just because he didn’t care. But he did care, which was becoming increasingly more apparent by the second, and just as Brad could feel himself start to panic, David’s voice snapped him out of it.

  


“Hey Brad?” David asked cautiously, and Brad lifted his head to meet his eyes. Then, upon realizing he was still on his back, Brad pushed himself up into a sitting position, one of his feet tucked under his leg while the other hung off the sofa. It was David’s turn to go quiet, seeming to think over his words, before he spoke up softly again. “Are you asexual?” _What?_ “Oh shit- you are, aren’t you? I’m so sorry, I should’ve- I should’ve asked way before we even got to this point. Brad-”

  


“I’m not fucking asexual, David.” Brad cut him off, his tone a mix of defensive and annoyed. Anyone else in this situation would have flinched, maybe, or at least glared at Brad and given him a middle finger salute, or a slap to the face, or a comment about how he’s just the fucking worst. But not David. David never did that. Instead, he seemed to physically relax, and he inched a little closer to rest a hand on Brad’s knee- not suggestive, this time, but comforting. Brad looked from the contact to David to see a gentle look in his eyes again, and if Brad weren’t still internally having a freakout over having to come out to David, he’d be having a totally different one about how he was falling in love with the guy, if he hadn’t already.

  


“Okay.” David responded, his voice a bit shaky. Then, sounding more sure of himself, he added, “What’s up, buttercup?” At the nickname, Brad squinted his eyes in discouragement, which only served to make David let out a small huff of a laugh through his nose, grinning wider. He seemed relieved, at least, which meant that David was laughing with Brad rather than laughing at his expense. That gave Brad a little boost of courage, and he suddenly found himself wishing he had a liquid form of that right there in the living room. But he didn’t, and getting up to get a bottle of wine was just going to drag this out and make it more emotionally excruciating than it already was, so Brad decided against it. He just needed to be honest, to rip off the bandaid and hope for the best.

  


“I’m trans.” Brad croaked out, and he swallowed hard and took in a deep breath to stop the oncoming tears from surfacing. He let out that deep breath slowly as he got out a quiet “I’m transgender”- to clarify in case David didn’t understand what it meant shortened. Brad looked down to his hands, fidgeting nervously in his lap as he struggled to keep his cool. This was it. This was the moment where either, A, David would accept him and hug him and kiss him and never let him have another lonely night again- or B, David would be absolutely disgusted, or he’d make it into some weird fetish thing, and Brad wouldn’t even have the self respect to stop David from seeing him that way because Brad was just so infatuated with everything that was David and he was the first person, like, ever to treat Brad like an actual human being and if Brad lost David then he wasn’t even sure what he’d do and-

  


“I know.” _Wait a minute. He fucking knows???_ Brad’s expression must have given away his thoughts, because David grinned wider and laughed softly. “I’m kidding, Brad, obviously I didn’t know.” He went silent for a beat, then continued. “Have you gotten surgery down there?” That question caused Brad to roll his eyes and huff in annoyance, and David grimaced. “Sorry- is that a bad thing to ask… people like you?”

  


Brad scoffed. “Uh, yeah, kinda.” Then, after shifting in his spot, Brad sighed. “But to answer your question, no, I haven’t.”

  


“Oh thank god.” At that, Brad squinted his eyes threateningly, and David’s cheeks went red. “Not like- I just meant- I obviously get turned on when we make out and I thought you did too but I also never, like, felt anything-”

  


“Oh my fucking god, David-”

  


“It’s just good to know that it’s probably not because I’m underwhelming or something.”

  


“You’re not leaving.” Brad pointed out, and David laughed again.

  


“No, you’re right.”

  


“Why?”

  


David tilted his head in confusion. “...Why haven’t I left yet?” After receiving a nod of clarification from Brad, David continued. “Because I like you, Brad. A lot. And you being… yourself, that isn’t going to change that.” David said the sentence with so much confidence that Brad immediately felt his body relax, the tension being replaced by a surge of some positive fluttery feeling in his stomach that Brad hadn’t quite identified yet, and before either of them could get in another word, Brad practically launched himself at David, resting his hands on his cheeks as he kissed him harder than he’d ever kissed another living soul.

  


That night, they fell asleep in the bed instead of cramped up on the sofa, their clothes discarded, their limbs all tangled up, and Brad being a surprisingly clingy cuddler at night. And if the two of them had awkwardly placed the Scrooge McDuck plushie out on the couch because they felt too awkward doing anything with it around? Well, that was their business.


End file.
